


Control

by crushondeanlikeafairy



Category: S.W.A.T. (TV 2017)
Genre: Character Development, Gen, Growth, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Moving On, Past Child Abuse, References to Domestic Violence, Team Bonding, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23050480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushondeanlikeafairy/pseuds/crushondeanlikeafairy
Summary: Street gets a strange letter in the mail. Luckily, Luca and Chris are there to help.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 125





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> ♫Street just got a letter, I wonder who it's from!♫  
> Please tell me I'm not the only one who thought that XD  
> I wrote this like pretty quickly, like in only a few hours. Which is fast for me idk. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!

It was a good last night for their weekend. Luca had wanted to host a team event at his house, but most of the team decided to act like boring adults and bow out, on account of it being a school night. Chris had agreed to come over for a few beers and Street… well, he lived there so Luca hadn’t exactly left him much choice. While he was bummed it was only half of his team, it was still fun just the three of them hanging out. Sometimes when they were all together in that big group, Luca felt like he didn’t get to see much of his friends just get to be themselves. So, he found it fun getting them away from work. Being third generation S.W.A.T., he knew how important it was for everyone to be able to wind down after work. And to get to see each other when theirs and others’ lives weren’t in imminent danger.

All things considered, it had been a victory. Trying to get Chris to play video games with them was normally like yanking teeth, but tonight she’d agreed. And, if he was being honest, she was kicking Street’s butt at Mario Kart. He found that dumbfounded look on Street’s face, and the smug one on Chris’, so funny that he passed his turn at a controller a few times.

While they were in the middle of Rainbow Road, the map that Street never could figure out despite his driving skills in the real world, Luca realized he hadn’t gotten the mail from the box yet. There wasn’t much of note. A couple of bills and a greeting card from his dad. The old coot liked to pick up those cheap, cheesy ones from the drug section of the supermarket and mail them to him. He’d get one every few weeks or so. And a manilla envelope addressed to Street.

He grabbed the pile which had been shoved unceremoniously into the mailbox and headed back up the walkway and into the house. Making his way to the kitchen to open his card, he dropped the yellow envelope onto his roommate’s lap.

“Dude!” he shouted as the race finished and Chris whooped in success. “You made me lose!”

“Don’t blame this on him,” Chris said, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I was kicking your ass and you know it!”

“Whatever,” he said, waving his hand dismissively at her but with a good-natured smile on his face nonetheless. Street set his controller on the coffee table and looked down at the envelope in his lap.

Luca hadn’t been looking, too busy laughing at the stupid cow pun on the card from his dad, but when he heard Chris ask,  _ “Is everything alright?” _ , that caught his attention. He set his card down and moved around the counter back into the living room. Street hadn’t opened the envelope but was frowning at the label on the front.

“Dude, what’s up?”

Street shook himself, realizing his friends were talking to him. He glanced between them, then back down at the envelope. “Nothing, it’s… from my uncle.”

“Uncle?” Luca asked, giving Chris a confused look. He knew he wasn’t the only one when she shrugged in response. Neither of them knew about any uncle.

“Yeah, he’s my dad’s brother,” Street explained, shaking his head minutely as he opened the envelope, “But, I’ve only heard from him once in like twenty years and it wasn’t anything good.”

“Could be good now?” Chris tried. She scooted forward on her seat to get a better look at the contents of the envelope. Luca was curious too, so he came further into the living room to stand next to the couch. He was going to stand behind it but he acknowledged it would be a little too invasive to read over his friend’s shoulder, no matter how much he wanted to.

Street pulled a piece of paper from the envelope, a letter it looked like, but before he read it, he noticed something else inside. He peeked in before turning it upside down and dropping the contents into his right hand. A smaller, standard white envelope with just  _ ‘Jimmy’ _ in a lopsided, messy scrawl written on the front. The penmanship was almost illegible and Luca was surprised he could read it.

“I don’t get it,” Chris said, “He sent you a smaller envelope inside a bigger envelope?”

“It’s the Russian doll of the U.S. postal service. Inside that one is an even smaller one!” Luca laughed.

“What does the letter say?” Chris asked.

Street was already reading it, his eyes skimming back and forth across the paper. Luca and Chris were waiting eagerly for the mystery to be solved when suddenly their teammate jerked and dropped the white envelope like he’d been burned.

“What?” Luca asked urgently, jokes forgotten.

“Nothing,” Street answered quickly, getting up from his seat on the couch. “Don’t worry about it.”

Luca would have liked to not worry about it. He would have liked to not be regretting suppressing his nosy urge to read over his friend’s shoulder. But Street looked like someone had just jumped out at him from a closet and shouted ‘Boo!’.

“Is your uncle okay?” Chris asked, no doubt going through possibilities as to why a simple letter could cause someone to react like that.

“He’s fine,” Street said, bending down to pick up the envelope he’d dropped. Luca didn’t miss the second of hesitation. The way his hand stalled for just a moment, retracting back toward his body as if on instinct. But he reached forward and grabbed it nonetheless, putting it in the same hand holding the other papers. He squeezed past Luca and the couch, turning to the direction of his room. “It’s late. I think I’m gonna hit the hay.”

Chris stood to follow him, getting as far as Luca’s side, as she called, “Street!”

That stopped him, he couldn’t turn his back on her. Not completely. Not when he knew he’d just scared them. The old him that joined the team a few years ago, he would have kept walking, no problem. But not the guy standing in front of Luca right now. He turned back around and silently handed them the piece of paper that had been inside the manilla envelope. Luca took it, angling it so Chris could read as well.

_ Jimmy, _

_ It’s been a minute. Look, I’ll just get right to the chase. I don’t know why it took me so long, but I was finally able to make myself go through my brother’s things. I found this letter addressed to you. You remember that weekend he was detoxing at my place? I think that’s when he wrote it. Anyway, I didn’t read it. It was for you, not me. And whether you read it or not is none of my business. I did my job in getting it to you. _

_ -Ralph _

Chris looked up from the paper in front of her, pointing the envelope still in Street’s hand. “So, that’s…”

Street glanced down at it for a second, before looking back up at her, “Yup.”

“Are you going to read it?” Luca asked.

“Nope,” he said curtly.

“You’re not even curious what it says?”

“No,” Street laughed dryly, “I know exactly what it’s going to say. My uncle said that my dad wrote this letter when he was detoxing at his house. I remember. I was nine years old and he had quit drinking. For the fifth time. And every time, he’d go to my mom and  _ swear _ that he was a changed man. He’d promise her that things would be different. And every time, he was drunk again by the end of the week. Okay, so I know what’s in there. It’s full of excuses and false promises and I don’t want to hear them.”

“I know we never talk about your father-”

“Right, Chris. With good reason.”

“I know,” she agreed, “And if you really don’t want to have this conversation just tell us and we’ll drop it. But what if you’re wrong? What if it’s something that you need to hear?”

“Yeah, man,” Luca said, “What if he had something that he really needed to tell you but he just couldn’t say it?”

“He doesn’t deserve a voice!” Street said, raising his voice to cut over Luca’s but not quite shouting yet. “He took mine and my mother’s away from us! I’m not going to give him one!”

He shut his eyes, his brows pulling down in a grimace. Luca and Chris remained silent, giving him time to collect his thoughts and calm down. Finally, he released a long, slow breath, and handed Luca the unopened letter from his father.

“If you care about it so much, you take it. Or throw it away for all I care. But I’m not going to read it.”

“What about what you deserve?” Luca asked. “What if there’s some sort of explanation?”

“I have one already, and it’s not what that letter is going to say,” Street said. “He wrote it when he was sober, so he’s going to blame the alcohol. Or his own father. Or say he just can’t control his anger sometimes, no matter how much he wishes he could. Any myriad of excuses designed to take the blame off of himself and I’ve heard them all before.”

Street pointed angrily at the envelope in Luca’s hand.

“Anything that letter says is a lie. I know, because every word he’s ever said was a lie. When he told me I was worthless. When he blamed my mother for his outbursts. When he said he couldn’t control his anger. Men like him, they’re in control. Anger is just a tool they use to get what they want. But they’re capable of stopping when someone knocks on the door or when the phone rings. They deliberately direct punches to places they know the bruises won’t show. And they do  _ not _ go around abusing every person who makes them angry. No, they wait until there are no witnesses and then they hurt the people they say that they love.”

Street took the envelope back from Luca and looked down at the near-illegible letters written there.

“Then they worry about getting caught. They promise to change. And they lie,” he continued, calmer now. He looked up at Luca and Chris, smiling sadly, “He knew what he was doing. He was in control. Each time, he made a conscious choice to do the things he did. That’s the only explanation I need. Anything beyond that is just an excuse.”

The group was quiet for a moment, Luca and Chris taking in their teammate’s words. He wasn’t sure about Chris, but Luca had never thought of the situation like that before. On the news and in the media, so often people gave these men excuses when these stories aired. They blame drugs or alcohol. They mention those anger-control issues. They talk about the cycle of abuse that, while very real, oftentimes is just used to make it easier to explain. If the explanation is that simple, it’s easier to dismiss it and look away. Society as a whole excuses these behaviors. But Street was right. There are plenty of addicts and alcoholics that don’t beat their wives. People who tend to lose their temper don’t pick just one or two people to lash out on. And most children who grew up in those environments would never dream of lifting a finger to the people they love. The man standing in front of him was proof of that.

“I still think you need closure,” Chris finally said.

“Chris,” Street sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Chris went into the kitchen and started rummaging through the drawers. When she found what she was looking for, she grabbed the little trash can sitting by the sink, emptied this morning when Luca took the trash out, and came back into the living room. She set the trash can down on the floor in front of Street and held out her hand. In her palm was the cheap, gas station lighter Luca kept to light the barbeque. And his scented candles but nobody needed to know about those.

“You get the final word,” she explained when Street looked up at her with a confused look on his face. “One last fuck you.”

“Great idea, Chris!” Luca exclaimed.

Street’s mouth quirked up in a small smirk as he took the lighter from her hand. He tilted the envelope sideways and set the bottom corner alight, the flame slowly growing from a little ember until it started moving up the envelope. Once it got close to his fingers, he dropped it into the trash can, along with the letter from his uncle. They stood around the trash can watching the flames eat the paper. Luca, ever the ham, held his hands out to warm them, earning laughs from his teammates.

“How do you feel?” Luca asked once the fire went out, leaving nothing but black ash in the bottom of the metal can.

Street slowly nodded, tearing his eyes from the trash can to look at Luca, “Pretty good.”

Luca thought of an article he’d read a while back about the cleansing abilities of fire. That through destruction came new growth. In fact, some trees could only be born once their seeds were exposed to heat. He suspected Chris had been partial to the idea because she liked burning things, but he liked the symbolism nonetheless. Besides, who didn’t like burning things?

They didn’t play any more video games after that, turning off the console. Instead, they sat around the table drinking beer and having a good time just enjoying each others’ company. It was a strange feeling, but Luca was sure tonight had been important. In the grand scheme of things, it was just a letter. But Luca knew that his roommate still had trouble dealing with a lot of the stuff that happened when he was growing up. He’d never had people to help him work through it and feelings of helplessness and fear like that didn’t just go away, not even after twenty years. The impact they leave is permanent, though lessened over time. Like a deep cut that can heal, and the scar may even fade but will always be there. Tonight, though, he’d gotten to witness his friend take some power back. And now that Street had people in his life to encourage him to open up when he wanted to shut down, to support him and help him grow, Luca was sure he’d get to see him take a little more back every day.


End file.
